Accidental Something
by without-tears
Summary: 6th Year. Harry put his sorrows behind him, but what happens when the emotions resurface? Hermione's peculiar gift has forced Harry into a risky decision... The wrong choice shows what happens when his feelings are just too strong to hide in a box. HHr.
1. Decisions

-1**DISCLAIMER**: _I do not own Harry Potter or any of the original characters or previous books!!! They belong to JKRowling and Warner Bros., Bloomsbury etc. As much as I really wish that I did own all of it, all I own is Jess and possibly more characters to come, and the plot of this fanfic! I'm just playing with the characters, no copyright infringement intended… yadda yadda._

A/N: So, this was originally posted under the name atropagranger, a very long time ago. It was originally called "EMANCIPATION," but I really dislike that name now so I changed it… I gave up on the story, because I didn't think anyone was enjoying it, hence the bitchy "no-ones reviewing, blah blah," at the bottom of each chapter :P

But after re-reading it for the first time in 2 years-ish last night, I decided to carry on, making it a little better. How touching. Enjoy.

**ACCIDENTS**  
Chapter one:  
Decisions.

Hermione reached over to her bedside table for her glasses. She still wasn't fully used to them, but the potions that she was still taking daily, as a result of that dreaded curse she was exposed to last year, had their side effects. One was permanently impairing her vision.  
She sat upright in her bed, flicked on her light switch, and glared at herself in the mirror opposite her bed.  
She sighed heavily.  
At least they hide my crooked nose, she thought, for she fully detested her crooked side-profile. Her nose dented inwards just as it emerged from in between her eyes, and then the bone jutted outwards, creating a little lump just before the cartilage. The cartilage had a defined structure that ended in two rather conspicuous 'corners' above each of her nostrils. She liked her nose from the front, it was subtly long and thin-looking… but she had always been subconscious about her side-profile.  
She reached under her bed and pulled out a parcel wrapped in red foil and embellished with gold ribbon. Taped to the side of it was a red envelope with the word 'Harry' written delicately on the front.  
She obtained her quill, ink and some parchment from her dressing table that she used for homework, and plodded over to her bed. Looking over at her clock, she noticed it was twenty to midnight. She had five minutes to write her letter and send off his gift for it to arrive at his house in time… She knew he'd love his present.

Meanwhile, a tall, raven-haired boy lay awake in his bed in Little Whinging. He stared at the ceiling of his small room, whilst sub-consciously tapping the beat of a rather irritating song, that was stuck in his head, on the duvet cover. It made a soft 'scc- scc- scc-' noise each time one of his fingers touched the cotton in the deadly silence of the night. The moonlight danced through the gap in the curtain, casting a frail light upon his pale face. If he tilted his head a little, the shadows cast upon the ceiling contorted into some crude-looking letters.

He liked it, it happened every night. He'd squint and stare until he found a message. Usually they'd say something bland and insignificant like "door" or "happy mug". Once he'd seen his name, "Harry", but today the words spelt  
'Help Helen…' he muttered.  
He thought this was eerie and desisted his staring. Instead, he focused his view out of the gap in the curtains… He could see the faint silhouette of a lop-sided owl flying not-so-graciously towards his house.  
He stood up and opened his window, so as not to make a racket if and when the owl flew into the glass.  
The owl swooped in, flew round the room, dropping its parcel on the bed and then landing back on the windowsill, holding out its foot patiently, waiting for Harry to remove the letter.  
He did so, and sat next to the parcel as the owl swooped away.   
Hermione, he thought: recognising the insufferably neat, loopy writing on the letter. He eagerly tore off the envelope, indulging in the fact that one of his friends had finally decided to get in touch after a week of no letters.

_Harry,  
Happy Birthday! I got you this present because it reminded me of you so much- I bought it last year: you can't IMAGINE how tempted I have been to give it to you before your birthday… but you have to be of age to use it anyway… OOPS… giving away valuable clues, here! But still, never mind- you're opening it in a second anyway.  
Harry, just a warning (it would be so much easier to give it to you in person!), this is very powerful. Use it if you are experiencing strong emotions that you can't handle! It also protects you if you 'wear it near your heart' like in a shirt pocket or something…  
It really is VERY powerful, though- be careful with it.  
I don't know if I should be giving it to you, really- but it can be our secret if you want…  
Anyway. If I calculated correctly, this letter should arrive at exactly midnight: Your birthday! (duh!)  
If you're wondering who's owl this is: it's mine. I went to Diagon Alley and completely fooled mum and dad into buying me one. I said they're almost compulsory. But never mind… I am going to leave either Crookshanks or Shae at home this year. I can't decide!  
Umm… I really hope you like your present. Owl me back!_

Love, Hermione. x  
P.S. We need to get together at some point: I am going to Diagon Alley next Saturday. Perhaps you can make arrangements with Ron to get there, too? You need your school supplies. And I need to tell you how to use your present. 

He looked at the clock on his bedside table. It was five past midnight, only just his birthday, but he wasn't going to rain on Hermione's parade that it didn't arrive exactly on time.  
Harry hadn't heard from Ron all summer. He debated whether to owl him or not before settling on the answer 'no' and deciding to open Hermione's gift.  
Firstly, he opened the card.  
It seemed to have been made by Hermione herself: she was a rather talented artist. It was of a golden snitch grasped around Harry's hand, with Harry on his broomstick and a bludger hot on his tail. The snitch was bewitched to flutter, as did Harry's cloak and hair. It was rather good, actually… Well, excellent. The 'sunlight' was actually glinting off the snitch and his glasses- it almost looked like a picture.  
He opened the card, and his eyes were met by that neat script once more.

_Dear Harry,  
Enjoy your day!_

Happy Birthday and many happy returns!

Love, Hermione.

Harry adored his card. He stood it proudly on his bedside table, and shifted his attention to the red parcel. It was quite small, and decorated in the Gryffindor colours.  
Quietly, as the foil made quite a loud 'rustle', he undid the neatly folded triangular flaps on either side, and pushed out the present from one side to the other. It was a small box, looking of extreme value, of gold, encrusted with rubies or garnets. On the side were the inscribed words of 'Recondo a diluo ab a animi.'  
He quickly translated with his little knowledge of Latin, and figured out that it's inscription meant something along the lines of 'heart troubles storage', however, that didn't make sense.  
He had learnt a brief knowledge of Latin over the summer, as a result of being bored stiff constantly- he had actually read a book Hermione had leant him; entitled 'the Structure of Spells', in which it concentrated on 'clauses of spells' and editing them. Mostly, it was a dangerous business; however Harry found it intriguing. Hermione had laughed at this and made a joke about how Harry thought dangerous meant a problem with his coffin at his funeral.  
Harry wondered what the heck Hermione would give him a box to store a mobile coronary in for. He opened the box, which was about five centimetres each way, and glanced inside. It was lined with red velvet and seemed to have smaller-that-doll-sized furniture in it. It looked like a small room.  
For once, Harry did not succumb to curiosity and instead placed the box next to his card, resting his head upon his pillow once more. His eyes glinted happily for the first time in months, and although he hadn't been away from the Dursleys all holiday, he was smiling. He had always kept regular contact with his friends- they would send him sweets and other things of interest to keep him going. They knew that this summer would be hard on him.  
It made him feel better that Ron and Hermione hadn't seen each other all holiday; at least then he wasn't an outcast.  
He picked up his torn card envelope and his neatly opened wrapping paper, along with his letter and its envelope, and pulled out a five-year-old shoebox he had managed to salvage from the Dursley's rubbish bin all those years ago. It was slightly battered, however, the word 'HERMIONE' still stood out boldly in blue ink.  
He opened the box, revealing various wrapping paper, letters, notes, cards… All from Hermione, and he placed his newly acquired letter, envelopes and wrapping paper and ribbon on top of the bundle of keepsakes, replacing the lid and banishing the box safely to the farthest point he could reach under his bed.  
There was no box entitled 'Ron'.

A.N: Okay, readers! What do you think? I have two more chapters to post so read them and review on the way if you like… But if you'd prefer to review all three then I'm not complaining. Haha.

Thanks for reading…

-without-tears-


	2. El Nuevo Amigo

-1**ACCIDENT**

Chapter Two: El Nuevo Amigo.

Saturday dawned a bright day, and Harry was content because he would be able to see Hermione again, even if Ron didn't show.   
_Suit himself_, thought Harry.  
He was sure to grab the small box he received from Hermione when he sneaked out of his bedroom. (It was very early, Harry didn't much feel like waiting around for the Dursleys and have to explain to them where he was going. No, it was better that he stayed quiet… They wouldn't miss him.)  
Grabbing his grey hoodie, he exited the house quietly and stood outside the Dursley's. He sorted out his money bag, slipping it into his right pocket, and stuffed his present into his left jean pocket. Gazing around the street, he saw that only a tiny fraction of the prissy home-owners of Privet Drive were morning people. The only cars gone were those of the people who worked on Saturday mornings. He wondered if it were too risky to flag down the Knight Bus- in broad daylight… But then again, it wasn't HIS magic that he was using: Ernie and Stan would be the ones to blame.   
He stood at the edge of the footpath and stuck out his right hand, awaiting the triple-decker bus's arrival.  
In a matter of seconds, the bus pulled up in all of it's sickeningly purple glory, and out came Stan.  
"Hey Stan." said Harry, smiling politely.  
"It's 'im again, Ernie!" He yelled back to the driver in his cockney accent. "'Ere, Ern… It's 'Arry Potter!"

"Ha, I didn't think you'd work through the day… What with being called Knight Bus…"  
"Yeah, we work 'till 8:00 a.m… It's a bit risky in summer, what wiv the light morning's an' that, but-"  
"Yeah," interrupted Harry. "Anyway… Diagon Alley, then please." He cut past Stan and climbed aboard, Stan following.  
He nodded at Stan.  
The bus lurched forwards as Harry began to walk towards a seat, gripping tightly onto the poles of the bus, so as not to fall over. It felt like walking into a gale-force wind.  
He noticed that today there were regular bus seats and looked, quite frankly, like a bus. There were only about 3 passengers, and Harry sat on the seat in front of a girl who looked about his own age.  
He was absent-mindedly gazing out of the window when Stan came up to him, requesting four sickles and two knuts for 'regular daytime travel with no luxuries.' Reaching inside his money pouch, he realised he did not have enough change for the two knuts- rather irritated by this, he handed over four sickles.  
"Uhh- do you have any change?" He asked Stan.  
"Nope, sorry."  
"I can help," Said the girl, brandishing a few knuts in her hand. She tipped them into Harry's hand, and Harry exchanged them for one of his sickles, tipping it into her upturned palm.  
"Thanks," they said at the same time. She smiled and then returned to gazing outside the window.  
"There." said Harry, passing two knuts to Stan.  
"Enjoy yer trip, 'Arry."  
A few minutes passed uneventfully, resulting in Harry's forehead landing on the window out of boredom. He decided to break the silence if not just for something to _do_. He turned round.  
"Hello. By the way- thanks for the change."  
"Oh, it's OK…" She replied quietly, "I'm Jessica- or Jess. Whichever."  
"My name's Harry."  
"I know," She said with a smile. "Everyone does." She continued to gaze out of the window.  
He smiled politely. "Where are you going, then?"  
"Diagon Alley- School supplies."  
"Really? Me too… You don't go to Hogwarts do you? I've never seen you."  
"Transfer." She sighed. "I was bullied. But I don't care- it's behind me now."  
"Oh…" He felt quite awkward. "Well- what school did you go to before?"  
"Oh, a small one- two hundred pupils. It's called St. Johns- in West Yorkshire."  
Harry then realised that her voice was laced with a bit of an accent. Only very slightly, though.  
"What year?"  
"Sixth- like you… and Hermione and… What's his name… Umm…"  
"Ron."  
"Yes! Ron. That one." She said, with a bit of a giggle.  
"I'm meeting Hermione today, if you want, we could help you get your uniform…"  
"It's OK- I am meeting up with this prefect. I don't know which one, yet."  
"Oh." Said Harry, feeling only slightly offended. "Let's hope you don't get Malfoy."  
"I'd rather gouge out my own eyes with my wand!" Harry smiled- at least she knew who not to trust.  
"Nasty piece of work," He replied.  
"Mmm…" She obviously was tired of the conversation about the Malfoys.  
"You know what house you're going to be in yet?"  
"Nope."  
"I'm in Gryffindor. It's amazing- the people are very friendly."  
She smiled, and once again averted her gaze out of the window.  
The bus suddenly stopped, giving them both minor whiplash. An elderly lady hobbled off the bus.  
"God, we should sue." Said Harry, rubbing his neck.  
"Yeah," She said.  
The conversation fizzed out as it had been threatening to do since it began, and Harry turned back round, now facing forwards.  
About five minutes later, the bus stopped outside the Leaky Cauldron pub. He stood up, and began to walk towards the entrance.  
"Thanks Ern, Stan." He said briefly.  
He heard a quiet 'Thanks' from somewhere behind him and knew that Jess was following him.  
He got off the bus and headed towards the Leaky Cauldron entrance, when:  
"Umm… Harry?" She called, jogging over.  
He smiled. "Yeah?"  
"Thanks."  
"What for?"  
"At least now I at least have an acquaintance, if not a friend, at Hogwarts."  
Smiling, she walked into the pub, and Harry followed suit.

When he entered, he saw Jess waiting at the bar, sat at one of the tall stools. She smiled as he walked through. He noticed that she was wearing some skinny jeans and a white shirt with brace. He thought it was a nice outfit.  
Walking straight through, he tapped the correct brick round the back, and walked through the erupting archway. It shut behind him.  
He headed towards Quality Quidditch Supplies, intent on browsing new brooms to pass some time. As he approached, he greeted Seamus Finnegan who was staring as though mesmerised at a rather handsome, shiny, mahogany broom in the display.  
"Hello Seamus."  
"Hi, Harry- Look!" He exclaimed, cutting to the chase. "Firedart. 'From the same makers as the Firebolt comes the Firedart - for the person with a lighter pocket.'" He quoted the display caption.  
"Great, Seamus." He didn't really care- he had his Firebolt, which was considerably better, according to the price. "You getting one?"

"I'd love to, but my Mam's got me a broom for my birthday… I think it'd offend her."

"Let's hope it's one of those, then." Harry said, rather unenthused.  
Rather abruptly, Seamus blurted:  
"Oh, I gotta go, Harry- me Mam's over at Madam Malkin's - Gotta get fitted. See you later!"  
He left Harry alone with just his own thoughts. Wandering back down the street, he found himself sitting on a random bench outside Flourish and Blotts- When Hermione arrived (any time soon), he would be in clear view of her.  
After about ten minutes, a tall brunette whom he recognised walked through the archway unaccompanied.  
It was not Hermione, but Jess.  
She spotted Harry and walked up, looking distressed.  
"They didn't show! I've been waiting fifteen minutes, and we were supposed to meet half an hour ago- I thought I was late!"  
He chuckled.  
"It's ok- Hermione isn't here yet, either. You can wait with me."   
"Thanks- at least if they don't show I can walk round with you."  
"Yeah."  
They sat back down on the bench and chatted various small-talk-topics, until a girl with very bushy brown hair interrupted them as they hadn't heard her approach.

A/N: Short, I know  
Next chapter already up.


	3. Winklepickers

-1**ACCIDENT!**

Chapter 3: Shopping

"Hey Harry!"  
"Hermione!" He jumped up, abandoning the conversation with Jess. The first real smile he'd felt in a while spread onto his face "How are you?!"  
"I'm fine!" She looked to be on the brink of bursting with happiness. "Oh, come here!"  
She pulled him into a tight embrace, when she noticed the girl who he was sat on the bench with looking at them curiously. She let him go, and he turned around.  
"I don't think we've been introduced…"  
"Oh, this is Jess… Jess, this is Hermione, my best friend. Jess is a transfer student."  
"Hogwarts? ...Oh!"  
"Yes, I can't wait," Jess replied. "I've heard it's huge!"  
"It is," Harry said, with a grin. "It will take you a while to get used to the changing staircases and hidden passageways… Locked doors, dodgy teachers…"  
"I think you've done enough shaming the name of Hogwarts, Harry." Interrupted Hermione.  
"Sorry…" He said and grinned sheepishly. Something inside Hermione lurched.  
"Umm… If you guys want to head off, I can wait on my own- a prefect is supposed to be coming." Said Jess.  
"He's late." Stated Harry matter-of-factly.  
Jess smiled at Harry, who grinned back.  
"Let's go, Harry." Said Hermione.  
"Uhh… Okay? See you later Jess. If they don't show, you can always come with us, becau-"  
"Come ON!" She said, a little more sternly this time, tugging at his sleeve.  
"Okay! God!"  
She pulled him away from Jess and didn't allow him to look back as she tugged him up the hill.

"_What_ was that about?!"  
"I… Uhh…" She stammered- in truth, she didn't know _what_ had come over her. "I _really_ wanted to look at the new…" She searched around the street for the nearest shop. _Quality Quidditch Supplies._ "The new broomstick!"  
"Really?" Harry didn't believe her.  
"Yes. Let's go look." She started to walk away, but she found herself being pulled back towards Harry by a strong grip from one of his hands on her upper arm.  
"Hermione, what's up?"  
She sighed.  
"Look- I don't know- I guess I didn't like her out of instinct or something…"  
"She's nice!"  
"I'm sure she is, and in the future, I will be nicer and get to know her, but today… Well, lets just say that my emotions have been a bit of a shambles. I was thinking some things…"  
"Like what?"  
"Oh… Never mind. Let's go to Flourish and Blotts- I need a LOT more parchment. Professor Vector assigned me a five-foot essay, and I have only got about one foot of parchment left now!"  
She hurried off, rather too quickly for Harry's liking, and he followed her into the shop.

Inside the shop, Harry got distracted by some quills that always assured you had correct spelling and punctuation, and some thesaurus quills which you would tell the word to, and it would write the definitions down on some parchment, whilst Hermione was off buying her parchment.  
She was browsing through different weights and styles, and Harry got bored so he left the shop.  
Sitting himself down on a bench in front of Flourish and Blott's, Harry waited for Hermione patiently, having forgotten that he needed quills and parchment himself. Luckily, Hermione wasn't as ditzy as Harry, and when she came out she had an extra bag.  
"Harry Potter," She called in a sing-song voice as she came out of the shop. "Three Galleons, thirteen Sickles and four Knuts, please."  
"What?!"  
"I bought you enough parchment to last the entire year, unlike _you_ usually do- it _is_ NEWT year, afterall, and I am NOT having you use all _my_ parchment again- not to mention all the times you needed to borrow my quills and ink. I got you _plenty _of ink, in three colours, for colour co-ordination of your notes, which you _will_ be taking this year, by the way, and I got you some high-lighting ink, too. You will need it." She dictated, "Oh! Yes- and I got you a twenty quills- high quality! No scraping…That can be _so_ annoying. They were on offer."  
"Umm… Thanks, Hermione." It was nice to know that someone was looking out for him- what with his new-found weight upon his shoulders- the prophecy and all. "I don't know what I'd do if it weren't for you."  
"Me either." She said absent-mindedly, whilst sorting out her bags. She put her money back into the patchwork bag she wore over her shoulder, and handed one of the paper bags from Flourish and Blott's to Harry. They were navy blue with flashing gold script lettering at the bottom reading the name of the shop.  
"Thanks again- where to now?"  
"Back inside, actually- we need our books but I had to come out to get you… Have you got your supply list, Harry?  
"Yep." He pulled out a thick parchment envelope from his pocket. "Haven't opened it yet."  
"Well, open it- you need to know what lessons you're in and stuff, Harry! I can't _believe_ that you haven't opened it merely from sheer anticipation of your OWL results! I mean…"  
Harry turned away from her to open his letter whilst she was still rambling on about the importance of knowing your lessons and your OWL results.  
He carefully took the parchment out of the envelope and, holding the top of the parchment, allowed it to unfold. It was unusually long, as a result of the OWL results scribed neatly at the bottom.  
He automatically began reading the bottom of the parchment first.  
**_Ordinary Wizarding Level Results_**  
_Harry James Potter_

_of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

Defence Against the Dark Arts _written_: Outstanding  
Defence Against the Dark Arts _practical_: Outstanding + (_Corporeal Patronus Bonus_)  
Transfiguration _written_: Exceeds Expectations  
Transfiguration _practical_: Acceptable  
Potions _written_: Acceptable  
Potions _practical_: Poor  
Charms _written_: Acceptable  
Charms _practical_: Exceeds Expectations  
Astronomy _written_: Outstanding  
Astronomy _practical_: Poor  
Herbology: Exceeds Expectations  
History of Magic: Dreadful  
Care of Magical Creatures: Outstanding  
Divination: Acceptable

"Oh my God, Hermione, I got like…" He cut himself off as Hermione kept talking.  
"And, quite frankly: why wouldn't you want to know? It'll affect you future…"  
"HERMIONE! Come here and look!"  
She stopped talking abruptly and walked closer to Harry's side, leaning to see what he got.  
"Oh my Goodness, Harry! You got, like…" Her lips moved slightly as she counted, "Eleven! That's _great!"_ She jumped up and down and clapped her hands as Harry just stood there, seemingly in a daze, with his face about two inches from the parchment, hands grasped tightly around the crisp edges, creasing the parchment quite significantly. "HARRY!" She pulled him into a tight embrace. "Well done, Harry!!!"  
He apparently snapped out of his daze, as he pulled back rather quickly.  
"I can't bloody believe it, Hermione!"  
"You should!" She said, quirking an eyebrow, "Anyway- that's _really_ above average, Harry!"  
"You don't think that they got me mixed up with someone else do you?!"  
"A someone else who just _happens_ to have an _Outstanding +_ on their Defence Practical? I don't think so, somehow, Harry."  
"What did you get?"  
She blushed.  
"Oh, all O's?"  
"Umm… Yes." She blushed more if it were possible.  
Harry pulled her into another hug.  
"The perfect score." He said.  
She smiled over his shoulder.  
"Well done, Hermione."  
"Thanks," She said, whilst pulling away.  
"Come on, I've got my list here and such- we need books."  
"Yeah- Look! You got into potions with me!"  
"And Snape." He groaned.  
"At least you have me to help you with homework."  
"I guess. I wonder what Ron got?"  
"I don' t know- have you heard from him yet?"  
"No…"  
"I wonder what's up? If anything…"  
"I'm not sure. Maybe we should floo there or something."  
"Maybe… Come on, we have shopping to do, and we need to get your money out to repay me."

"I don't think that I have ever spent so much money in my life."  
"My feet are killing me."  
"You shouldn't wear those ridiculous pointed shoes shopping, then."  
"They're new- they need to break in first."  
"Stop complaining."  
"Normally I wouldn't, but as much as I enjoy shopping, you have to draw the line somewhere."  
"Oh, you really are being a GIRL, Harry James!"  
He grinned.  
"I know!" And with that, he began to run up the hill, with all of his ten to fifteen bags.  
She struggled to catch up, but she did when he came to a stop at the top, gazing in the window of Quality Quidditch Supplies.  
"Was that supposed to be funny?"  
"Me pretending to sound like a girl?"  
"Yes, that."  
"No, just comical."  
"Good, because it wasn't funny." Even so, she couldn't hold back a small grin. She caught sight of the broomstick in the window and made a double-take. "Oooh…" She cooed. "That's _gorgeous_! Oh, my God. How much is that?!"  
"Dunno."  
She somewhat reluctantly tore her gaze from the broom to face Harry.  
"Seriously- I have been wanting to uh…"  
"Spit it out."  
"I wanna learn how… Uh… Um… Quidditch."

"What about it?"

"Well," She composed herself, not wanting to sound silly. Harry was a Quidditch player himself, he would take her seriously. "I want to learn how to play."  
"Really?!"  
"Yes…" She wondered if Harry was going to ridicule her.  
"Cool! I can teach you- you're quite a good flier aren't you?"  
"I'm average, I think."  
"A bit of training isn't useless against flying." He replied. "Oh my God- if you get good enough, you could play on the team!"  
She raised her eyebrows.  
"Okay, maybe not…" He faded away.  
"I want that broom, though."  
"It is nice," he said "You have good taste, Granger."  
"I want that broom."  
"Come on."  
"No! I WANT it!"  
"Hermione, we don't have enough- they're loads of money! That one is probably three hundred Galleons or something."  
She sighed.  
"Maybe for my birthday."  
"Yes, now come on. It's home time."  
"Ugh! I don't want you to go- you can come back to mine for a bit, we can do random things."  
"Okay- Can't say I wanted to go back to the Dursley's."  
Harry was blissfully unaware of the little box, forgotten in his pocket.

"How do we get there?"

"We'll Knight bus it…" She checked her watch, "Jeez, is it really that early? I can't believe you got me up just to meet you before the Dursleys stirred."

"It's half seven, Hermione. Half the world is up right now."

"That usually would not include me." She still had her glasses on and walked down the hill in the direction of the Leaky Cauldron. As he watched her walk away in her fitted blue jacket and orange skirt, he noticed something different about her. It may have been her stance… Or how she walked with that little fluffy beret on top of her head. It may have just been his imagination, and he settled on the latter as he ran to catch up with her.

She sighed.

"Oh, Harry, I can't help but wonder sometimes."

"About what?"

"You," she looked sideways and continued walking. "How you are, how you're so… Fantastic."  
He felt odd. Those words sounded wrong. "What are you getting at… I'm not fantas-"

"Yes, Harry, you are… The way you handle things… It would certainly seem so."

"The way…"

"Yes. You act normal. As if nothing happened."

"… That's not handling it. It's denying it." Said Harry.

She stopped dead, and pulled her head back in a puzzled way, turning to face him.

"Well that was a lot easier than I thought…"  
"You thought I was running away from it all."  
"Well, yes…" He looked resigned to hear this, so she explained "You've been through a lot, and…"

"Shh, you great daft-head… You don't need to explain. I thought a lot about it, and I have it sorted, up here." He tapped his right temple.

"Just- If you need anyone to talk to, Harry… If it's about school or… Sirius…" He looked saddened by his name. "Or rash decisions related to footwear…" They laughed. "Then just come to me. Please."  
He pulled her for a hug which lasted about ten seconds. They both thought it was nice, and Hermione's eyes had just started to close when-

"Do you really think my winkle pickers are stupid?" Said Harry in the whiniest voice he could manage.

She hit him on the shoulder.

"Shut up. That was a nice moment until you butted in."  
He grinned as they started to walk again.  
"For your information, I think they look very _dapper_." She said.

He grinned even more.


	4. Throw&Catch

**ACCIDENT  
**Chapter Four: Throw&Catch

Toward the bottom of the street, Harry was complaining about his feet again, and Hermione dragged him to the side.  
"You're driving me mad!"  
"Sorry, but they don't half _pinch_."

"Harry James. We're going for coffee."

He rolled his eyes and hobbled as she dragged him by the arm to a small coffee shop located parallel to them across the street.

After ordering, they were sat opposite to each other at the table by the window.

At one table, a couple were kissing over ice cream. At another, they were holding hands. At the one directly next to them, some slushy romantic had bought his girl a gift. She opened the box and squealed.

Box…

"Oh! Hermione," he said, reaching into his pocket. "I forgot… Your present."

He placed it down so it was on the table in front of him. She suddenly snapped it up and held it beneath the table out of view.  
"Ah yes, I forgot about this. Well, this is, for lack of a better explanation, a box to store things. Only about thirty exist. I was lucky to find it."

"Really? Insane... What kind of things would fit in _that_, though?!…"

"Well not _things_, exactly… Emotions, feelings… Anything you want to block out or forget."

"Like a pensieve…"

"No, that's just for memories. This stores anything… It's… really powerful. Commonly associated with…" She whispered the next bit "the dark arts, actually."  
A look of horror caught Harry's face.

"What?! Why did you get me that?"  
"Shh! Calm down, what I _meant_ was _in the wrong hands_…"

"Aaaah. No need to go on… So I can just… Stick my emotions in there, willy-nilly?"

"Basically. It works like a pensieve: concentrate hard on what you want to store, and use your wand to get it there. I got you a box which can hold one strong emotion at a time, bigger ones are necessary for… stronger feelings."

"Well, it's certainly a keeper of a trinket. It must have cost you…"

Harry had never had such an expensive present bought. But now he knew how he'd repay her. He'd got some extra money out at Gringott's when she was not looking.

"Well," She blushed. "Never mind about that. It just reminded me of you and how you get sometimes, you're a great person you know Harry, and don't lie, I know some things get you down sometimes which you don't like to tell us. It's what gains you that reputation of the 'strong, silent type' which all the girls are going mad over."

He laughed. "That doesn't sound right."

"Believe me," she said sternly. "The girls are mad over you, you're just too blind and modest to believe so. But I'm glad you like the box."

"Yeah, Hermione, I do. Thank-you!"

She touched his hand and smiled. For a brief moment they both felt like every other person in there.

Their coffees arrived, and she immediately started sipping her latté.

"I'm glad we met up today, I've really missed you!"  
They exchanged smiles and polished off their coffees over banter and laughs.

Somewhere else, a man was sat with a servant. Some may have called him a slave.

He was sat in front of him, but he had his head bowed. Sat on his knee was an immense container, with strings of liquid dangling over the sides like tentacles, glooping all around but never breaking. The liquid was clear, but like oil, reflecting many colours; reminiscent of a rainbow.

The man in the chair slumped a little, his brittle form silhouetted in a ghastly manner on the wall.

Then, somewhere far away, a boy in the company of Hermione Granger felt an odd twinge in a certain scar on his forehead.

"Harry?"

"Err, yeah… what?"

"Are you ok?" Their coffees were empty and they were in the process of collecting their bags when Harry had dropped his and his eyes became glazed.

"Yeah.. I just… My scar was being daft that's all."

"That's funny," She replied… "Do you think you should worry about it?"  
"Possibly… But I can't really do anything 'till Hogwarts starts next week."  
She looked unconvinced. "I suppose you're right."

He shook his head, and smiled, to lighten the mood.

"Hermione! Come on, I want to show you something."

He grabbed her by the hand and exited the coffee shop fast.

They ran up the hill, Harry leading the way, dodging between witches and wizards purveying random curiosities on the street, and angry looking folk having been knocked off course by two racing teenagers.

He came to a stop outside _Quality Quidditch Supplies. _He stood Hermione in front of the shop with her back facing it.  
"Harry, what're you-"

"Wait here." His face was flushed as he let go of the grip he had just above her elbows. "Turn around, and I'll hex you into next week."

Her eyebrows darted up. "Fine…" So she waited there, gazing across the street at the other shops. They were outside a Quidditch shop… She remembered how they were stood here earlier, looking at the broom she wanted so badly. She gasped… He was getting her the broom!!!  
Her smile widened for the moment. A few minutes later, she felt a tap on her shoulder, and turned around, still grinning.

He handed her a book. "So you want to be a…" it said at the top (obviously a part of some kind of range of books) "…Quidditch Player?"

Her smile faltered but she tried not to show it.  
"What's wrong… were you expecting something bigger?"

She realised that she had been expecting far too much and suddenly gasped.  
"No! No! Of course not, I-"

He grinned…  
"Sure you weren't expecting something a bit more… Wooden and twiggy?"

A man emerged from behind Harry, holding a broom with a huge pink bow around the handle.

"Surprise!"

"Wh-"  
"I had to repay you somehow… I saw how much you loved this broom… The spark in your eye! It reminded me of how I felt when I got my Firebolt."

"Oh, gosh Harry. I don't know what to say…" She breathed as the man handed it to her. "You shouldn't have at all…"  
"Shush, a thank-you will suffice."

"Thank-you." She adjusted her glasses, and grinned from ear to ear. "Come on, we'll get a train back to mine from London, now the Knight Bus has gone." She blatantly could not hide her excitement and grabbed his hand again, linking fingers, dragging him away from Diagon Alley.

"It's ok, just try again."  
He threw the ball to the other end of her vast garden. She chased it, but it fell to the floor and bounced before she could get it.

"I will NEVER get this, Harry!" She cried, dismounting her broom and stalking over in his direction.  
"You will, just-" She put her broom down on the grass and made to walk past him into the house. "Whoaaa!" He stuck his arm out to grab her by the waist and pulled her round to face him. "Get back on that broom, Granger."

"No, Harry," Stubborn as always. "I can't do it!"  
"Shh!" He went to collect the broom, and handed it to her obstinately. "You were inches away from the ball that time. Go on."

Reluctantly, she mounted her broom again.

Her garden was about thirty metres in length, a very large plot of ground, as the houses on her estate were backed by fields, and they bought a portion of it to extend the garden. The house in itself was quite mediocre.

They didn't have to worry about being seen as she was flying low to the ground and there were great conifers lining both sides of the turf.

He threw the football. She sped off to the other side, hot on its tail this time.

He noticed her skirt flutter a tiny bit, and her hair. Flying really suited the girl who he was used to seeing poking out from behind a tome bigger than her.

She caught it.

He whooped as she sped back, a grin on her face. She threw the ball on the ground and rolled off her broom, giggling. "YESSS! I did it!" She kicked her legs in excitement for a minute, and rolled on her front to see Harry sitting cross legged grinning down at her.

Propping herself up on her elbows and resting her chin on her hands, she smiled and said "I never thought I'd get it!"

"I know, but what did I tell you? You're a natural Hermione Granger. You're a born chaser."

"No, Harry, I'm a born _muggle_."

He laughed. "Never mind that. You're awesome. You look like you belong on that broom."  
"I felt like it too. It was a… huge _rush_."

"Yep."  
Sighing contently, Hermione rolled on her back once again.

"Thankyou Harry. I've never really worked up the courage to do stuff like that before."  
He was still looking down on her, her face upside down to his.

"It was fun," he replied. "Don't worry about it. Just wait till I unleash you on the Quidditch pitch at Hogwarts…"  
He laid down too, so he was also gazing up to the sky, head next to hers but facing the opposite direction.  
"Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"You're the best friend I ever had…" There was a silence. "Uh… That sounded silly. But what I mean is I never thought I could care so strongly about anyone. I know there's Ron, but fairly… I've never been alone with you for so long. Things feel entirely different."

"… I know what you mean." Hermione said, her heart fluttering.

He sat up, and so did she. "It's just… Hermione…" He smiled. That smile which melted everyone who saw it.

Hermione smiled too. He leant forward, and her stomach flip-flopped. Her head moved forward and her eyes closed. She opened her mouth slightly, and Harry's hand made his way to her shoulder. She felt an annoying tug at her jumper, and her eyes snapped open. He was closely inspecting her shoulder and pulling a large bobble off her jumper. She immediately blushed and leapt up, leaving Harry sat on the floor bewildered.

"Sorry, it's been bugging me all day." He said, and scratched his head.

"I… Erm…"

"What's wrong?" laughed Harry.

She put her embarrassment out of her mind and prayed to God he hadn't noticed her preparing for a kiss.

"Nothing. I'm going to prepare us some sandwiches and apple juice… I'll bring out our textbooks and we can have an early gander." She shot him a look. "For once on your part."

He smiled and waited for the picnic.

When it arrived, they smiled and had fun and Hermione put all thoughts like _that_ out of her mind.

They were best friends enjoying each others company for the last time before their sixth year at Hogwarts, and that's how it felt. And that's how it should always be. Nothing more. Forever more. That's what Hermione kept telling herself.

Somewhere far away, someone could feel no cowardice.

A/N Hope you enjoyed the chapter folks, next should be up soon.. I won't set myself a time limit because I never meet them. Next chapter they should be returning to school. Finally, I hear you sigh.

R&R! THNX.


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